


i just wanna believe in you and me

by mallory



Series: it’s what you do to me (oh amy) [2]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: 2x09 - The Road Trip, Episode Tag, F/M, LLF Comment Project, Light Angst, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 02:11:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2715107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mallory/pseuds/mallory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ll wait for you,” she says, and Jake tries not to take it as anything more than face value.</p><p>Insight to Jake’s thoughts following the others leaving the table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i just wanna believe in you and me

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from 'Scarecrow' by Alex & Sierra.
> 
> This is an extension of what I originally wrote [here](http://heartstremble.tumblr.com/post/104156625876).
> 
> Edited: 9/8/15.

He waits on baited breath for her to say— _do_ —something. If there is remotely a chance; a glimmer of hope, that she still likes him, then Jake won’t fight so hard later, knocking on Sophia’s door, to convince her that _she’s_ the one he wants to be with.

You know that out-of-body experience you always hear people talk about but never actually experience so you think it’s all bull-shakalaka? Yeah, that used to be Jake. But hearing Amy stammer out that she liked him “maybe… yes … a-a little”, his mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening, and it was like everything has changed and his mind exploded. Because for almost a year now, Jake had thought Amy never liked him, liked him. For almost a year, Jake respected her relationship with Teddy, and Wells is a nice guy, but so is Jake.

Jake deserves to be happy, and he could have tried harder, _looked_ harder at Amy.

There’s a second, here and now. A split second where Jake leaves the verdict of their relationship, once again, in Amy’s hands. He’s letting her decide what she wants to do because he’ll make due; he always does. He will respect it—and her—either way.

He’s hopeful, but hesitantly so, because he knows Amy. He knows she doesn’t like taking chances, especially when it’s not in her favour. He knows she’s claustrophobic and secretly loves it when Ray chides Gina. He knows how hard she worked to make her family proud and how much she hates sesame seeds on her burger buns. He knows Amy. But he’s hopeful.

In that split second, Jake sees it. He sees her pulling back; the tiny little crinkle in her right brow, her slight inhale, and even the wheels in her beautiful mind going over time. And he knows: she’s not ready.

He lets it slide; follows her lead. She leaves the table. (He’d add something cheesy like ‘taking his heart with her’ if it isn’t so, so true.)

Jake and Sophia talk more after shoving the puppets and dolls under the bed. They cuddle up to go to sleep, and he’s all too aware of the tiny space between them. He’s torn between feeling respite and guilt, and paired with the fact that he’s the big spoon (he knows how to pick his battles), he doesn’t fall asleep until three AM.

The next morning, they pack and dress quietly. He attempts to make casual conversation, but she claims she needs her coffee first. He lets her think he believes her.

They run into Amy in the lobby with her brown bag on her arm and black on her shoulder, and Jake imagines how meticulous she would have been last night as she packed her things; folding her dirty clothes into a plastic bag to keep away from the spare, clean clothes for “just in case”.

They have a quick breakfast, the only sound is their utensils clacking against their plates. Sophia offers a question aimed at Amy, asking her how the eggs are. It grinds to a halt after Amy’s polite, “Yum.”

The tension breaks when they’re in the parking lot. A dog runs by and Amy lets out the most ridiculously cute yip. Jake bursts out laughing, the sound booming and echoing through all the red and oranges of the maple trees. He feels mighty and masculine.

Amy says an awkward goodbye to Sophia, and there’s a brief moment where their arms wave robotically, like they don’t know whether to hug or shake hands. Eventually, Sophia waves.

Jake randomly throws the keys to Amy, who catches it like a pro.

“I’ll wait for you,” she says, and Jake tries not to take it as anything more than face value.

He makes sure she’s in his car before turning around to kiss Sophia, promising to call her when he gets back home. They separate to their own cars on opposite sides of the lot.

The silence is comfortable in his car. It’s the first time in twelve hours that the silence doesn't want to make him claw at his eyes, and Jake’s glad.

They pick up the convict after he buys them some fries. And when she’s still gloomy an hour later, he purposefully says something stupid to make her smile.

She asks him about Sophia, and he’s careful not to look at her when he answers. He convinces himself to believe her feelings have changed; he missed his chance. He has to believe, because he can’t spend his life pining for someone who doesn’t want him back.

And of course he teases her, trusting things will go back to normal; they always do.

He can be happy without Amy. (But he knows he’ll be happier with her.)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:
> 
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